


I Remember That I Love You

by dasakuryo, Dynamic_Ideation



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Misunderstandings, Smut, Temporary Amnesia, of course theres smut yall know me, totally inaccurate descriptions of amnesia just go with it okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasakuryo/pseuds/dasakuryo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamic_Ideation/pseuds/Dynamic_Ideation
Summary: When Iris gets hurt investigating for her latest scoop, she wakes up with no memory of who she is. As she tries to put the pieces of the puzzle together, she knows one thing for sure; she and Barry have been together for a long time.Problem is, they've never been together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks goes to my increíble partner-in-crime Das for this asombroso cover for our piece! I ❤ you, amiga mía
> 
> In celebration of #RunIrisRun ❤❤❤

 

_A crash, a bang, an impact, and then darkness. She floated for a while, somewhere between sickness and sleep. It was quiet, and quite comfortable not to be conscious. Still, as her body began to mend itself, she knew there was somewhere she needed to be. Someone she needed to get back to…_

 

Cold. A sickly, stale smell on the air, overlaid with lemony chemicals, like someone tried but couldn’t scrub the first smell out. Bright. The light reflecting off the stark-white surfaces hurt her eyes. These were the first things she registered when she opened them.

_Hospital._ Where else could she be? That brought up the most important question;

Why the hell was she here?

She lifted her arm to rub her heavy eyelids with the back of her hand. It didn’t make it all the way up before she felt a yank and a prick. An IV snaked out, clear liquid flowing into her veins. She used her unattached hand to feel her body for the damage. Nothing apparent on her legs, stomach, or ass. Nothing going on with her arms beside the IV. The white gauze around her head must be the main event. Well, that would explain the skull-splitting migraine. 

Bathroom. She needed to go there. 

She was surprised when standing made her wobble dizzily. She gritted her teeth against the fresh wave of pain in her head and swallowed down the thick, viscous feeling of nausea. She would make it to the toilet. That she would do. Using the IV pole as a walker, she propelled herself, one shaking step after the other, to the throne room.

After finding some relief-man, do those IVs make you have to _go_ \- she washed her hands and caught sight of herself in the mirror. It was something out of a horror movie. Her face was drawn and her normally lustrous brown skin pale and dull. Someone had to get her favorite day cream up here, stat. The skin below her bloodshot eyes was somehow sunken and puffy at the same time, forming two darkened half-moons. Undead was not a good look for her.

Blank _, you’ve got to get yourself together, girl!_ _Wait, what’s my name? What’s my_ name _?_ That was when she realized; she didn’t know the name that should be there.

She tried her best not to panic. She probably had a traumatic head injury, things like this were to be expected. But try as she might, she couldn't remember who she was. She stumbled to the foot of the bed, grabbed up the chart, checking over the front page.

Iris Ann West. She would ask who in the hell is Iris Ann West was, but it must be her. Still, she didn’t remember. She tried to think of someone to call, but nothing came. Who were her loved ones? She was on the verge of a panic attack when the door swung open. Iris nearly dropped the chart when she saw the man who walked in.

First of all he was tall, really tall, and lean with nice shoulders. His coffee-brown hair was looked like he’d been running worried fingers through it, with hands almost too big for his body. His red sweater was rumpled, but he still looked pretty damn good in it. 

“Iris?” When he saw her awake he rushed to her side, so fast she didn’t even see him move. To her surprise, he took her hand.

“Iris!” There was so much in a name. The way he said hers, it told her an entire love story. He said her name like a statement of fact, like it tasted good in his mouth, like he said “Iris” so much his tongue just shot it off automatically. 

“Are you crazy? What are you doing out of bed?” He angled his tall frame behind her, and with one arm around her waist, and her hand in his, he gently guided her to the bed. His hands were warm and reassuring, and he touched her with the ease of someone who had done it many times before.

_He could bring my face cream. Too bad I can remember the brand but not who he is_. The sob was out before she could stop it, and she choked on the sudden flood of tears.

He knelt in front of her. ”It’s okay, I've got you, Iris I’m here now.” Iris, because apparently that was her name, cried on the mysterious, handsome stranger's shoulder. He held her, rubbing her back with his wide, heavy palm, whispering comfort words. 

She didn’t remember anything about him, but she could tell you, without a shadow of a doubt, that she loved him back. There was an unconditional, hardwired love for him in her, deep as a ravine. The memory was set in her bones. Being this close to him, she could feel their love flowing in an unbroken circle. 

Still…things were hella awkward. She pulled back, both soothed and uneasy. 

“Feel better?” He cradled her face in his hands, the pads of his thumbs wiping her tear-stained cheeks. Iris relaxed right down, a soft smile on her lips. She did feel a _little_ better. "Just lay back and relax now. I'm going to find the doctor and have them look you over. I’ll get you food. I bet you're starving.” Iris hadn't paid it much attention, but the word “eat” made her stomach gurgle. The tall, coffee-haired man laughed. “I brought brownies, if you think you can keep them down.”

“Keep them down? I’ll bite your fingers off if you get in my way!” It was the first thing she said out loud, and it made the man laugh harder. This was the first time she'd ever seen it, and she took in the lines of his long pale throat, perfect white teeth, and his feline eyes as his smile made them disappear. It was easy to see how she could love him. 

_Hmm, no ring on our fingers. He’s my boyfriend! We’ve been together a loooooooong time._

“Turtle brownies from your favorite bakery.”

_You’ve done alright for yourself, girl,_ she thought, grinning ear to ear.

Watching her demolish the brownies wasn’t a pretty sight, but her boyfriend acted like she performing a graceful ballet. 

“Iris. I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up. I’m the one who does comas, remember? Now that you’re back I don’t think I can leave your side.” He blinked the tears from his forest-green eyes. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and kissed her hands. Ah, yes. She could see exactly why she’d gotten with him. 

“I’m okay-“ she was missing the name- “Sweetheart, I’m okay.”She hugged him again. It felt strange because she didn’t _know_ him, but she knew what feelings he brought out of her. He held her so close, for so long, Iris knew she was right about their relationship. What were things like between them, when everything was right?

She held him and squeezed. His eyelashes fluttered against her skin where his face was in her neck. She couldn’t kiss him on the mouth quite yet, but a soft kiss on his cheek seemed to suffice. 

“I’ll be right back, Iris. Don’t fall asleep, and do not move from that spot. Promise?”

“I promise.” She raised her right hand, the one with the IV in it. 

Soon a doctor came in, her nameless boyfriend in tow. 

“We’re so glad you’re awake, Iris! You gave us such a scare!” She picked up the chart and made notes. “To keep things simple, I’ll tell you the main details; you hit your head and your brain was bruised when it hit the inside of your skull. That’s what a concussion is. There can be lots of side effects. You may feel dizziness-“ Check. “Nausea-" Check. “-Even some memory loss.” Try a shit ton of memory loss. 

“Among other things, severe concussions can result in brain damage, coma, or even death. I don't want you to panic, though. You're out of the woods for the most part. As long as we monitor your sleep, I believe you can start the road to a full recovery. Are there any symptoms you're feeling that you'd like to tell me about?” She couldn't reveal memory loss to her boyfriend. It would break his heart, the way it broke hers to be unable to remember him. Besides, everything would come back soon. She was sure of it.

"I have a major migraine, but I guess that's to be expected. When I stood up to use the restroom I got dizzy and felt like I could throw up. Other than that, so far so good." 

“Okay, Iris. We’ll order you up some food, and some pain meds, and we’ll get a commode set up next to the bed. We don't want you doing too much walking around yet. In the meantime, we’ll just monitor you. If all goes well, you can to go home tomorrow.” _Home_. It seemed like a distant dream. 

“We’ll get you something better than that hospital food. I’ll be back in, well, a second.” She must have really hit her head hard, because it literally took him a second and he was back with fast food bags.

She ate the Big Belly chili cheeseburger with extra pickles and fries almost as quick as he’d brought it to her. He grinned watching her tear up the food.

“You’re probably not supposed to have this, but it’s your favorite and you deserve it.”

“Oh my God, babe, this has to be 2,000 calories by itself!” She moaned around a delicious mouthful of beef and chili and cheese.

He gave her a funny look, but seemed amused nonetheless. “Iris, you can eat your own weight in junk food. This isn’t your first rodeo.” Done with the burger, she ate the fries and remaining brownies together.

“Iris, please don’t eat yourself sick.”

“I won’t,” she replied, but it sounded like “ahr wuhnrt” because of her chipmunk cheeks. He just shook his head and laughed. She was feeling much better, but the excitement made her woozy. Her boyfriend picked up on it. 

“Get some rest.” He plucked what was left of the meal out of her hands.

“But—“

“I’ll get you more later. Right now, rest.” Iris pouted but let him to tuck her into bed. As soon as she closed her eyes she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Everyone told her to rest, but it was impossible when the nurses came to wake her every two hours. It was frustrating. Just when she hit her deepest REM sleep, they tortured her. Her only saving grace was every time she opened her eyes, the man in her life was there, anxious to confirm she woke up. Once, he had a huge physics book in his hands. Once, he was flipping mechanically through the 25 channels on the ancient little hospital tv. Once he was doing sudoku, so fast his hands seemed to blur. But every time, he was there.

Some sixteen hours later, a new voice roused Iris from her sleep.

“Mr. Allen?”

“Barry, please,” he said as extended his hand to shake.

So _that_ was his name. Phew. She was starting to think she’d have to ask. And no, they weren’t married. Once she got her memory back she was going to work on that. The man was a keeper. 

“Everything went well last night, so she’s fine to go home today. We can discuss her ongoing care then discharge her.”

Barry sighed, relieved. “I think it will do us all good to have her home again.”

Iris was so excited that she wriggled while the doctor detailed her ongoing care. 

Barry took actual notes on the pages of her discharge instructions, neatly folded her clothes into the clear plastic hospital bag, and tucked her into a wheelchair for her ride to where his car was waiting. 

Home. She couldn’t wait to see what it looked like. Maybe it was a colonial with white siding and dark blue shutters. Maybe it was in a Spanish style with curved lines and stucco siding and a red tiled roof. Maybe it was a tiny little bungalow, where everyone piled on top of each other, with just enough room to bring them together and keep it cozy. Being at home would jog her memory, she just knew it. She would comb every inch of that house for something that would set her off. A picture, a piece of furniture, a familiar scent. Something would do it. Everything would be sorted out and go back to normal. She wouldn’t stop until she remembered.

“Joe’s just getting back from Atlanta. He took the earliest flight he could. He and Wally will be so glad to see you.” Iris stopped herself from saying, “who?” They had to be her family. Joe. Her dad? Wally. Her brother? It felt right. 

They pulled up to the house and Iris waited for an epiphany. She searched the neatly trimmed hedges and perfectly green yard, but there was nothing. Iris swallowed down her rage. Then she felt miserable because she was not a rageful person, and she hated feeling that way. Still, as she squinted at the nut-brown bungalow with its weathered but well-maintained siding, blue shutters and oak wrap-around porch, nothing jolted her. 

Barry opened her door for her and he gathered all her things, looking personally insulted when she offered to carry a bag. Inside the house she took in the smokey natural woodwork, running her hands over the banister as she looked up at the high, antique coved ceilings. It was a gorgeous house. And she didn’t recognize a single part of it. The tears that stung her eyes. 

“You’re staring at the place like you’ve never seen it before.” A deep male voice said. Two men, an older one and a younger one, rushed toward her. Just as with Barry, she knew the moment she saw them that she loved them dearly. _My family. They have to be._

“Just glad to be back, that’s all. ” The older man wrapped her in a fierce embrace, and the younger man laughingly wrapped them both up.

“Oh, my baby girl! Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

She felt it was okay to risk it. “I’m fine, Dad. Really, I am.”

“I want you to get some food in you, then you’re going straight to bed, young lady. I called your job and you’re not due back until next Monday. We’re going to take shifts waking you up.

“Dad, I just got here. I can’t go straight back to bed, it’s one in the afternoon.”

“It’s bedtime, as far as I’m concerned. If you want I’ll come read you a story. You always liked “Hop on Pop”. Even if my back didn’t like that you liked it.”

“Awwww, thanks, Dad,” Iris giggled. Wow. What an amazing, caring, thoughtful dad she had.

“I moved the tv to your old room and it’s filled with lots of snacks and pillows and books and dvds. Plenty of stuff to keep you busy for the next twenty-four hours.”

The younger man, Wally, squeezed her until she was begged for mercy. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay now, big sis. How did it feel?”

“I was so scared.”

“ _You_ were scared? You had me ready to go try and fight an entire condemned house for revenge.” he hugged her warmly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Big Sis.”

“I’m just fine, Little Bro. You won't be getting rid of me that easily.”

Okay, this was her dad’s house. This was where-she-grew-up home, but it wasn’t where-she-lived-right-now home. 

Barry took first shift because of course he did. He guided her up the stairs, one hand fitted around her waist, the other under her elbow, just like in the hospital room. He guided her with gentle practiced ease; obviously, he was used to molding his hands to her curves. It made Iris’ body respond with a shiver.

“Are you alright? Should we stop? Should I carry you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Barry, I can handle myself.” She climbed the last few steps with determination, Barry rushing after her. She stood triumphantly at the top. 

“See? I’m fine-“ she didn’t even realize she was tipping over until Barry scooped her up bridal style. “My hero,” she mumbled, running her fingers over his lips. He blushed scarlet.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Iris West, in one way or another.” He laid her down gently and tucked her in so tight she couldn't sit up straight.

“What do you need?We have some water and your painkillers. Want something other than water? Are you hungry? Should I make something? I can run out for cronuts if you want some of those.”

He was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Small wonder she was dating him, if he took this good of care of her. I think I’ll be ready for that kiss sooner rather than later, she thought to herself. 

“Right now, all I need is you.” She squeezed his hand and he ducked his head, bashfully. 

“You got me, you know that."

He woke her up a couple of times to makes sure she was alright. She woke up herself, once, to see him leaning against the window frame, arms folded across his chest, his fingers over his lips, staring out like he could find an answer out there. Physically Iris felt like crap, but she was safe and protected. She wondered: Who is Iris West? 

A reporter. Daughter. Sister. Girlfriend. Okay, that was a start. What was her personality like, though? What was she passionate about? What did she hate? What did she value? She wasn’t going to learn any more lying in a twin bed with a twenty year old tv. She let it go for the moment and watched BAPS on VHS to lighten her mood, napping off and on under Barry’s watchful eye.

“Iris.”

“Hmm?”

“I have to get ready to go.”

“Where? Why?”

“Work. I can’t take you home because I can’t stay with you tonight. They know the situation so they’re giving me the next few days off.”

She hated to be away from him for any length of time, but she understood. 

“Okay, Babe.” She waved him in for a hug and stroked his cheek. He was so handsome, and so damn sweet. She wanted to kiss him, and saw the way he eyed her lips. She wasn’t ready for anything full on, so she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Have a good day at work.” She ran her thumb over those pink lips of his.

“Okay, I-I w-will.” He seemed flustered, but Iris couldn’t tell why. 

Wally and Joe were in the hall, preparing to take over for Barry. “Babe?” Wally mouthed to Joe behind them.

“The head injury?” Joe mouthed back as he shrugged. 

Iris hung out with her father and brother, probing for clues; nothing jogged her memories them. Nothing more than a few shades and a few images. Nothing substantial, nothing she could sink her teeth into.

They allowed her out of bed to wander the living room, tracing a line along the walls with her index finger, observing what the room could tell her about the personality of the family who lived there. It told her the family was warm, affectionate, and loving, even more so than the average family. She stared at the pictures and the diplomas, the books and DVDs on the shelves. The kindergarten watercolor paintings signed with her name in huge block kindergarten scrawl.

A stack of boardgames were piled haphazardly on a shelf, and when she saw “Sorry” she nearly wet herself with excitement. That game she remembered loving. She remembered playing it as a kid, with her dad and a shadow of another young person. Must have been Wally.

“Come on Wally, let’s play!”

“Seriously?”

“You’re not too grown for “Sorry”. We can play now. Just like we did when we were kids.”

Wally looked at her funny. “Iris…you didn’t know me when we were kids.”

“What? Of course I did, silly!”  
“No, you didn’t. Are you alright?”

Oh, shit. “Of course I’m alright, I’m just messing with you. Can’t take a joke now?” Wally looked at her, confused. She left off from the game, having suddenly lost her appetite for it.

She examined more pictures and found Wally absent. There was also no sign of her mother, which she decided not to address for the moment. She had a feeling it would be painful.In the pictures was a small pale boy. Barry? What in the world was going on?

Dinner was uneventful, with the men in her life watching her like a hawk. It was unnerving. Had they found her out?

“Guys…what is it?”

“Are you feeling lightheaded? Do you need to lay down? You haven’t finished your dinner. ” Her Dad asked.

“Very un-Iris-like,” Wally added.

“You need your strength.”

“Do you want me to grab you another piece of chicken? I’ll grab it for you…” Wally gestured toward the kitchen with his thumb.

“You guys. I love that you’re so concerned about me. Really, I am. But I feel okay and I promise I will tell you if I feel off.”

“Mmm hmm,” Joe hummed, sipping his coffee.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We’re supposed to believe the same woman who got herself in this by purposefully looking for danger can be trusted to tell us when she’s not feeling okay.” In that very moment, Iris was pretending to be okay and she wasn’t. She stood up quickly (but not too quickly) to make for the kitchen.

“Who’s ready for dessert?”

She served them all bowls of raspberry sorbet she’d found in the freezer. She ate a few spoonfuls and hummed in approval. She looked up and they were staring at her again.

“What?”

“Iris, you hate sorbet. You haven’t touched it since you were a little girl and you told me it was, and I quote, evil.”

“Well, people grow up, you know? I didn’t tell you I started eating it again? It’s my fav!”

“But there are brownies.”

“What?” She dropped her spoon. Why the hell was she eating sorbet when there were brownies to be had? It was good and all, but let’s be real here.

“We got ‘em especially for you the way we always do when we have sorbet. The white chocolate chip macadamia nuts kind.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I promise, I’m fine.” _What a horrible person I am._

Joe cleared his throat. “We’re snitching to Barry.”

“Nooooo, don’t tell Barry, he’s gonna have a fit. Anything but that.” She’d die of guilt if he worried about her anymore than he already was. 

“Two more pieces of chicken and we’ll let you off the hook.”

“And a couple of brownies for good measure.” 

“I love you guys.” She wasn’t lying. It felt right to say it. She hated lying, but her memory would be back soon so no need to worry. right? 

The next evening Barry took her home with instruction from Joe to make sure she got plenty of rest, chicken, and brownies. 

 

 

“You’ll be more comfortable back in the apartment. It's great to be back at Joe’s but twin beds stop being cool once you pass the age of 10."”

Barry drove, Iris stared. The streets looked familiar, but only in a passing way.

She almost wept yet again when stepping into her place did nothing for her. Again, only shadows. Wisps of shadows. Barry immediately bustled around, picking up stray items of clothing and emptying the dishwasher. At least, if nothing else, she had him. Overwhelmed, she rushed to him and clung to his back. He was strong. He probably picked her up and tossed her around when they were really going at it. 

He wrapped his arms around hers, intertwining their fingers. “Is everything okay, Iris?” he asked over his shoulder. 

She used a perky voice to lie again, “Yeah! I’m just so happy to be home.” She sniffled quietly, holding down her emotions as they stood for a long moment. 

There are pictures of her and Barry all over the apartment. He knows where everything is, knows exactly what she’s going to want. 

“That lasagna you made is still in the freezer. We could have that for dinner.” Barry skirts around the apartment, his normal clumsiness gone, his lanky form floating with the ease of familiarity. 

He brought down dinnerware and set the tiny two-person dining room table. “Good thing I threw these into the dishwasher before your accident. One thing we don’t have to worry about is dishes.” She watched as he disappeared into a door and came back out the next instance holding a stack of clothes.

“Plenty of clean pajamas. But of course there are, you’re Iris. Mine, on the other hand… I know you told me to wash them last week but I got caught up in some research and, well, everything else ceased to exist. You know me.” She did. Somewhere deep down within, she did.

They talked and laughed over lasagna and garlic bread.

“Tell me about this research.”

“It’s about Dr. Wells and his particle accelerator. You remember that one, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah, the particle accelerator! I do remember that,” she lied. “You should go over it again though, you know I don’t have a head for science-y stuff.” That was 100% true, she knew. Barry’s face lit up. “You’re asking me to go through it again, knowing how excited I get. Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure.” Sure she wouldn’t understand a thing, and that Barry would have the time of his life anyway.

“Okay so, first I dug into Dr. Wells’ publications from Yale…”She smiled and nodded as he launched into a monologue about all the science crap she didn’t understand. She got the feeling he’d done that often, before. _What a nice little home we’ve built here_ , she thought. She began to imagine. What side of the bed did he sleep on? Did he snore? Was he neat? The room got warmer with her next train of thought, as she watched his beautiful mouth move, looked into those pretty eyes with their fluttering lashes. How often did they…?

“-does that make sense?”

Iris shook herself out of it.

“Not really,” she teased with a smile.

“I don’t think either of us went into that expecting for it to make sense. Especially not coming from me.”

Iris yawned. 

“Time for bed? Was I that bad?” He smiled, but his thinly veiled concern wouldn’t let it reach his eyes. 

“Bear, you know I love listening to your super genius science babble.” He was brilliant beyond the scope of the general population, and she admired that about him. Also, he was passionate about science. Passion was sexy in a man, especially Barry Allen. 

When it was time to change she shied away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice her modesty. Barry had probably seen every part of her there was to see and then some, but even though he hovered while she changed, he stood outside the bedroom door instead of in. It was easier, but still strange. _Are you disappointed he isn’t all over you, Iris?_ In a way, yeah, she was.

“I set you up in the bedroom the same way I did at Joe’s house. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think I’m good, Sweetie. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” She hugged him, this time placing a slow, lingering kiss on his neck. Color rose high on his cheeks, land he stammered a response. 

“Well, uh, you know, it’s my job and all.” He shrugged in false nonchalance.

“Still. I’m lucky to have you.” She stroked her thumb along his cheek. 

“It’s nothing, Iris. I’m happy to do it. Sure you don’t want any last minute Ben and Jerry’s? I picked up like four different pints so you could have a stash ready when you got home.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Barry went back into the living room as Iris got herself settled in.

She snuggled into the bed and wondered which side was hers and which was his. The side closer to the window felt natural, so she tucked the covers around herself and began to drift. She’d almost gotten to sleep when she noticed Barry hadn’t come to bed.

“What the heck is he doing?” She wondered out loud. She was willing to bet she had a hard time sleeping when he wasn’t with her. The bed felt painfully empty now. 

She called his name. 

“Yes?” He appeared in the doorway. “What do you need, Iris?”

“What are you doing?”

“I was asleep.”

“On the couch?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Why don’t you get up and come to bed?

“Huh?” Flummoxed was a good word for the look on his face. 

“Come to bed, Barry. I can't sleep without you here with me.” 

“Me, in the bed with you? I didn’t think you would want that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” Barry only looked confused, but when she made grabby hands at him he came without question. Iris ushered him under her lilac comforter. He seemed like he was trying to stay so far away. "Why are you all the way over there? I'm not going to break, you know.” She scooted closer to him, ran her hand under his shirt, over his abs. Barry shivered.

”Would you hold me?“ Barry stiffened. The rejection stung. Weren’t they typicallyaffectionate with one another? "Please. It will make me feel much better.“ Barry pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her and he squeezed her so tight that she understood how she must have fallen in love with him. She breathed a strong sigh of relief, enjoying the warmth and the hardness of his chest. She felt safe falling asleep in his arms, and her last thought before she drifted off was how grateful she was. 

Going “back” to work was awkward, to say the least. Finding the building hadn’t been to bad, thanks to the power of GPS. The inside of the building, however, was a whole different animal. 

It was full of people scurrying back and forth, shouting about the latest stock crash or world championship or baby bump; if it was considered newsworthy, people were yelling about it. 

Her boss, Scott, welcomed her back in a way that was probably less gruff than usual; he even gave her a whole forty-eight hours more to finish the feature that was due the day she got hurt. Iris wished she could remember what she was working on; she loved the rush of deadlines, but not like this.

Linda, who was apparently her best friend, squeezed the life out of her and started yammering a mile a minute about a feature on Serena Williams’ return to tennis she was writing. Sports. Linda was a sports reporter. It sounded familiar, in a way that nagged at Iris. She needed to know more. 

She searched her desk for clues as to what she was supposed to be doing. There were stacks of handwritten notes, memos, and research materials everywhere. It took twelve tries but she finally figured out her password (barryisabigdork). Now that she could look at all her documents, records, and half-written articles, she was more overwhelmed than ever. 

Frustration. Her old friend. Her hands shook as she tried to compose herself. How could she get any work done if she didn’t even know what her job was? 

_Maybe I should tell someone. Just tell the truth._ And then what? Risk losing her job? Just a little more time, that was all she needed. Just a little more time for everything to come back.

On the edge of a panic attack, she picked up her phone and hit the speed dial. 

“Iris? Are you alright?”

“Hey.” Her voice was shaky.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” The concern in his voice caused her to let a tear slip.

“I’m just little overwhelmed.”

“Do you need me to come get you? I don’t want you working if you’re not feeling well enough.” Papers rustled in the background, and she knew he was already packing up to be on his way. Iris breathed deeply, her anxiety lessening knowing her man had her back. 

“No, no, I’m alright. I just, um, wanted to hear your voice. I feel better already.”

“Are you sure? I can come and get you right now, it isn’t a problem.”

“Really, it’s okay. Just you being here for me is enough. Will you be home when I get there?”

“Of course.”

She took another risk, but one that felt natural. “Barry. I love you. So much.” 

A pause, but not a long one. “I love you too, Iris. Always.” She hung up, feeling like she could take on the day, if only one minute at a time. 

First minute; figure out what she was last working on. 

She discovered a document buried underneath a few stray papers. Thankfully she was organized enough to date all of her projects, otherwise she’d be assed out. 

This was her most recent work; an investigative piece about local government corruption and how they were using abandoned and condemned houses to hide their money and house their thugs. She _remembered_ this. 

_A flash of rotting wood and peeling paint, an inky darkness behind boarded up windows, a dank, damp smell that clung to the roof of her mouth._

Ah yes, that was how it had happened. She was investigating inside one of the houses when part of the ceiling had fallen in on her. Lucky for her the neighbors heard the noise and called 911, or she might never have been found. 

A grisly memory it was, but she remembered. Maybe she should throw herself a little party in celebration.She dug further into the project, eager to push her mind for more progress. After a couple hours nothing more had come. She was exhausted but what little she could recollect, combined with a lot of research materials, had gotten her farther in her article. 

“Pow,” she whispered. She could _do_ this. It even felt fun. 

Barry was waiting for her when she got home, as promised. 

“I’m so excited, I could just kiss you!”

Barry’s cheeks tinged themselves pink, and he scratched the back of his neck in the way he did when he was feeling shy. He looked so adorable that Iris stood on the very tips of her tippy-toes and kissed him, full on the mouth. It felt right. 

Barry put his fingers to his lips, like he could still feel hers there. “W-what w-was that f-for?”

“Because you’re the best, Silly! Now, what’s for dinner?” She rushed to the kitchen before Barry could collect himself. Chicken curry and white rice from her favorite Indian place- she remembered that too! Things were looking up. 

“Barry, you-“ He’d caught up to her and kissed her again, then turned shy again. Every time they looked at each other during dinner, they’d giggle. When Iris fell asleep on Barry’s shoulder that night, it was with a smile on her face.

A few more days passed as she struggled through her article, falling into a rhythm because she was genuinely stimulated by what she did, using work-arounds to explain the difficulties she had with names, facts, dates. Each day she came home and Barry, each time he looked at her like she hung the moon. Kissing him was starting to turn her on; the way he held her hips and was always last to pull away, and how he looked so love drunk.

She dug through her closet, looking for something to match her nude Manolo pumps. bump that, everything went with nude. She noticed something strange, what wasn’t there. “Bear, where are your clothes?”

“Oh, I, uh, took most of them to Joe’s when I moved back in.” She didn’t like that sound of that at all. So they weren’t living together yet? It didn’t seem right at all. Another thing she’d have to fix when she got her memory back. 

Other than that, everything was picture perfect. At night she’d go home and Barry would be waiting for her, usually with dinner. It was usually takeout, but that was forgivable. She’d kiss his beautiful mouth. He’d kiss her back with an enthusiasm that said they hadn’t kissed in a long time. He kept looking at her like he’d never seen her before, all dazed and doped up. Twitterpated, even. 

Nearly a week after her injury, she came home to his smiling face.

“Hi, Barry.”

“Hi. Dinner’s in the oven.”

She hung up her coat and before she could kiss him hello he came up behind her, put his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him, his face in her hair. A jolt of arousal shot through her. She wanted to arch her back like a cat a press against him. Spun her aroundand gripped her hips in a way that was definitely sexual. 

“It’s good to be home,” she whispered,. He walked her back against the door and pinned her there. His hands worked their way down to her booty. and he was kissing her. This was no chaste welcome-home kiss. This was passion. This was holding her face and parting her lips and his tongue massaging hers. 

A loud shrieking interrupted them. The fire alarm. The food was burning.

“I’d better, uh, get that before the fire department shows up.” They ate Barry’s half-burned attempt at casserole and blushed their way through the whole conversation. It tingled and throbbed where her thighs met. She wanted to put a hand there, whether to soothe it or stir it up she wasn’t sure. 

When bed time rolled around and the feeling was still there, she turned to bBarry. 

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked, voice breathy. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I think…I think I’m gonna run out for a while. I’ll be back to check on you later. Alright?”

That stung. “Okay.” He got out of the door, quick, fast, and in a hurry.

After turning over for what seemed like hours, Iris looked at the clock. One am. It didn’t feel right not to have him next to her.

She called and he picked up on the first ring. He said nothing. “Come home, please. I can’t sleep. I miss you.”

He didn’t say anything, only breathed. 

“Barry, what’s the matter?”

“I’m taking advantage of the situation, Iris.” He didn’t sound like himself.

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been sick.”

“I’m not an invalid, Barry Allen. I’m capable of making my own decisions. I want you close to me.”

He sighed. “On my way.”

He got home just as fast as he’d left. There was liquor on his breath when he settled in next to her. Iris pulled his arm over her and snuggled closer. Barry nuzzled his face into her neck. She let go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. What could possibly be wrong between them?

Then it hit her. 

The reason he was so hesitant to touch her. The reason only a few of his things were in the apartment. The reason he acted terrified to get in bed with her. 

They were on a break before her accident. Their relationship was in danger. The pieces added up. What other explanation could there be? 

What was she going to do? She didn’t even know the situation. Who's fault was it? Was it anyone’s fault? Were they growing apart? Had they stopped being intimate? If so, was her own hesitation, her own fits and starts, making it worse? 

She’d just gotten him back, no way could she stand to lose him. She snuggled tighter to him, and he gripped her tighter in response.

Whatever tore them apart, she didn’t want it on hold. She wanted it fixed so they could be whole again. As the days had passed, Iris felt something building in her chest right behind her heart, something that made her hands tremble and her voice shake.

I’m in love with him. How had she fallen so fast? Was it the Iris that was struggling to come back? Or had it all been organic, fresh and new from beginning to end? Whatever the case, she wouldn’t give up her man without a fight. 

 

The next night, she was ready. She’d quizzed herself, forward and back, as to whether or not this was the right thing to do. Of course she wanted to be close to him, wanted to show him she was still in this one hundred percent, and she was prepared to fight dirty (the sexy kind of dirty). To be honest, if she’d truly only known him for a week, she’d still be ready. She was irresistibly drawn to him, his height and shoulder and abs. The way his eyes went soft when he smiled at her. The way he treated her like a queen, as if the universe decreed she was. 

She loved his tendency to bump into things because he talked too fast and payed too little attention. She loved that sometimes he couldn't find the right words, but he always showed her how much he cared. She loved how he lovingly kept all his well-worn physics books alphabetically organized on her bookshelf. The thought of his kiss turned her blood to fire. _I want him. All of him._ And she would have him. Tonight. 

Iris went through her best lingerie to pick out something just for him. Something extra sexy. A white lace corset was the perfect thing. Paired with matching panties that left little to the imagination, Iris knew whatever problems they had now would be nonexistent come morning. 

Barry was working ate and wouldn’t be home before eleven. Perfect. She laid in wait like a lioness stalking her prey, ready to pounce as soon as Barry walked through the door.

He called her name. “Iris?” 

Showtime. “In the bedroom.”

His jaw hit the floor. Iris was on her hands and knees, stalking across the bed until she reached the edge. She straightened, still on her knees, and traced her fingers all over. His eyes followed their every move. He definitely loved the lingerie. 

“Come here.” She said, crooking of her finger. 

He actually pointed to himself and mouthed, _me?_

“I said come here, Barry.” He came, red and stammering and panicked. Iris smoothed her hands over his chest. “Let’s see now, where to start? Maybe here?” She reached under his shirt and ran her fingertips up to his nipples, which came alive under her touch. “Or here?” She slid one of his hands around to palm her asscheek. “Or how about here?” She went for his belt buckle.

“Wait, Iris, wait, wait!” Barry jumped back like he’d been burned.

‘What’s the matter? Am I turning you off?” It couldn’t be that, judging by the tent he was pitching in his pants. 

“Oh no, I’m not turned off, that’s not it at all-“

“Don’t you want me?”

“Are you frickin’ kidding me, Iris, of course I want you!”

“Then come here and let me help you out of those clothes.” She yanked him back to her by his belt buckle and kissed him hard. He let her touch him this time, leaned into it, kneaded her ass with his long fingers. 

“Now that’s not so bad, is it?”

“Iris, are you sure about this?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” She went back to kissing him, working on that buckle. 

Barry broke the kiss, “Are you sure you’re sure?” Iris presses a finger to his lips. 

“Shh. Just kiss me, Barry.” So he did. Iris tossed his belt away and unbuttoned his pants. He let her guide him down onto the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress, slotting him between her thighs. 

The thrill was there, and the heat and anticipation. How many nights had they done this together? Iris wasn’t sure but she was ready to find out what kept them both hanging on. Barry kissed her neck, leaving a trail of kisses across her collarbone. He nipped her there, then soothed with his tongue. She was getting hot fast. 

“Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll make it better this time. Better than it’s ever been.”

Barry froze in place. “What did you say?”

“This will be our best night ever. I promise.” She punctuated it with kisses along his jawline.

“Iris, we’ve never done this before.”

Iris looked skeptical. “Never done what before?”

“This. Sex.”

“How could we not have had sex, Barry? We’re two adults in an adult relationship.”

“Iris, what are you talking about? We’re not together.” Barry scrambled back, out of bed and onto the floor.

It was exactly what she’d thought. They _were_ on a break before her accident, a bad one. Iris twisted her fingers together, nervous. “I know. I want to work things out. I want us to stay together. Whatever happened, we can get past it so you can come home and stay home.”

Barry stood up then, pacing the room.

“Iris, I don’t live here. I never have. We’ve never been together, ever. You know that.” Someone had signed her up for the ice bucket challenge without her knowledge. Ice cold dread drenched her and soaked through her skin.

“That doesn’t make any sense. You know this entire place. You have books here. I kiss you and call you sweetheart.”

“Iris. What happened when you hit your head? You have to tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean, Barry?”

“You’ve been saying and doing strange things since you woke up. Out of character things. Iris-but-not-Iris things.”

“Barry-“

“ _Tell me the truth, Iris_.” His voice was stern, with a hard edge. It was enough. Iris crumpled into tears.

“I don’t remember you, Barry.”

“What?” Barry looked crestfallen.

“I don’t remember you, or my dad, or my brother, or anybody! My memory is gone. I tried to wait for it to come back, I tried so hard to get it to come back!”

Barry stopped pacing and tipped his head back, steeling his hands over his face. It was the most defeated look she’d ever seen.

“Barry, please don’t be angry with me. Please! I don’t think I could stand it.”

“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I knew better but I wanted so bad to believe…I can’t do this, Iris. I have to go.”

Iris’ pleas bounced helplessly off his back. He walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Iris sobbed, “What have I done?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. 
> 
> 1\. Thanks for your patience. 2. Thanks for the most incredible and inspiring comments a girl could ask for. At a time when I'm finally getting my mental health issues together but starting to have some physical health ones, they mean the world! I wish I could answer you all individually, but please know how grateful I am. I hope you like the second part as much as the first!
> 
> See end notes for possible mild triggery stuff

Lifting her face out of her hands seemed impossible given the circumstances. Iris was weeping, to an audience that consisted of Joe, Wally, and a very sheepish Barry.  
“You don’t remember us?” Joe asked. Iris shook her head.  
“Any of us?” She shook her head faster. The devastated looks their faces broke her heart. This was the exact reason she hadn’t wanted to come clean.  
“I tried. You guys know I tried, right? I went forward and backward through photo albums, and through my email and Facebook. I thought familiar places like work or my apartment or here with the family would help, but there’s been nothing.”  
“That’s why you’ve been acting weird this whole time. Eating stuff you don’t like, thinking we grew up together…” Wally trailed off.  
“Thinking that we didn’t grow up together,” Barry added.  
“We should have known. We should have been paying closer attention.” Joe put his hands on his hips and turned away to blink back tears.  
“Dad, it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”  
“Now, don’t go beating yourself up, baby girl.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Wait, does it make you uncomfortable when I do that?”  
“No, it’s nice.”  
“I can’t believe that you don’t even remember you’re my baby girl.”  
“Barry, how did you find out?”  
Barry scratched the back of his neck and eyed the floor. “Iris thought we were dating.” Luckily, he left it at that.  
“Dating?” Joe echoed. “Heaven help me,” he said, looking up at the ceiling.  
Wally snorted and giggled. Joe gave him a withering stare and the smile slid off Wally face.  
Barry looked over to Joe. “What are we gonna do?”  
“Doctor first.”  
The doctor gave them news they were not happy about. There was no surefire way to get her memory back, nor was there any guarantee that if it came back, it would be whole. Scariest of all, the longer Iris went without recovering it, the less likely it was to be recovered.  
At least my family’s here to comfort me while I cry, she thought, as Joe, Barry and Wally held her in a big group hug.  
The doctors put her through a battery of tests, poking and prodding her all subjecting her to more procedures than the law allowed. She was a strong person, but without the unwavering support of her loved ones, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle it.  
Barry was there, but he was clearly struggling. He couldn’t look her in the eye, and it crushed her. As she awaited patient escort to take her down for an MRI, they had time alone to talk.  
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she blurted.  
“Iris-“  
“I want you to hear me, Barry. It wasn’t right for me to play with your emotions.”  
“You didn’t know, Iris. But now you do.”  
“How long?”  
He tilted his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “When we were kids I loved you before I even know what the word love meant. Then my mom died and I had to go live with the girl I had a crush on.”  
“Have you ever told me?”  
“There were so many times I wanted to tell you; junior prom, when I went away to college, when I came back from college, nights that we stayed up talking, all the birthdays, all the Christmases, but I, I never did. I kept it in. After I lost my mom and my dad, I was afraid that if you didn't feel the same way, I would lose you, too. When you got out of the hospital and we started spending so much time together I thought that maybe, finally-“ He dropped his head into his hands.  
“God. I’m so sorry, Barry.”  
“I don’t want you to ever be sorry. It was a dream come true. I just don’t know how you feel. How you feel.”  
“I can’t speak on before, but I know how I feel now. I’m in love with you.”  
“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted to hear you say that…but…it’s probably a good idea-for both of us-to put it on pause until you get my memory back.” That wasn’t what Iris wanted to hear, but she knew he was right. She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, comforting herself.  
“Iris, I want you to get it back, but-“  
“You’re afraid. I don’t know what’s going to happen or how I’l react. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Please don’t pull away from me, Barry. I need you.”  
A young man came in with a wheelchair.  
“Iris West for an MRI?”  
“That’s me. I can walk.” Iris held out her hand, willing Barry to take it. “Would you come with me? Please?”  
He did. “Of course I will. I’ll always be there when you need me, no matter what.” They walked to the MRI room hand in hand, Iris leaning on Barry’s shoulder. When Iris was on the platform about to slide into the machine, she wanted to break but she looked through the window to see Barry waving and giving her a thumbs up. She knew then that she could be brave.  
“There’s got to be a way to jog her memory,” Joe said. Operation Get Iris’ Memory Back started as soon as they got home. Over the next week they brought up all sorts of things, personal things, that would help jog her memory. Pictures, places, foods. Inside jokes, secrets, videos, old voicemails. Scents and songs. Iris finally confessed to CCPN. As soon as Linda heard, she spearheaded an office-wide effort to help.  
Bits and pieces came to her here and there. The flashbacks helped her build but still, they were few and far between. After another week, their initial hopefulness was wearing thin. No one would admit it, but Iris saw their eyes grow dull when suggested a new method to try.  
Still, Barry was there through it all with a corny joke to make her smile, or a small gift both thoughtful and sincere. She needed him now more than ever. And she did love him. She wasn't sure of a lot of things these days, but that she was certain. He was careful not to touch her very much, though, not even to hug her the way they did before she initiated the kisses.  
She understood why. The guilt of unintentionally leading him on weighed heavy on her, and the truth was, she missed kissing him. She thought back to the night she felt her sexiest in her lingerie, the way he’d looked at her, with unbridled, pure want, the way it felt right to have him weighing her down on the bed, the anticipation she’d felt, that she could only feel for him. The absence of that, knowing the distance had grown between them, bothered her more than anything. She was lonelier than ever.  
Friday evening, tired from a full week of both putting in work and exercising her memory, having Linda quiz her to no avail, having a difficult discussion with Scott about taking leave and starting disability, Iris was truly miserable. She was desperate, lonely, in need of comfort, in need of some sort of release. Iris was tired of crying.  
It had taken some coaxing to get Barry back in her bed to snuggle with her, but once she convinced him, he took to it with his usual enthusiasm. She needed it, even if they hadn't been dating before, she needed his affection now. Now, more than ever.  
She might have needed a little more than attention. She might have been mentally replaying their roll in the hay, seeing it through to the end in her imagination. She might have pleasured herself to it. She might have been unable to resist Barry so she maybe climbed on top of him.  
“Iris,” Barry said suspiciously. She smoothed the flat of her hand up and down his chest, feeling satisfaction at how quickly his nipples hardened. She carded her fingertips through this hair, feeling how soft and rich it was. She brushed her hands on his strong shoulders and kissed his neck.  
“What are you doing?”  
“What does it look like, Barry?What does it feel like?” She smirked dangerously.  
He licked his lips, “Iris, this is a bad idea.”  
“It’s a great idea. I want you.”  
He shuddered. “I want you, so much it hurts, but I can’t take advantage of you. We don’t want to do something we’ll regret.”  
Iris took his hands and moved them to the small of her back. Barry had absolutely no power to resist her, which delighted her.  
“I want you.” She repeated with more urgency. She ground down on him and he hissed, and his dick was getting hard fast. “I need this. please.” She pleaded with her eyes. She saw the last of his resolve dissolve like smoke in the open air. His grip on her waist tightened. She loved that he couldn’t say no to her, that he desired her like this.  
“Are you- are you sure?”  
“Of course I’m sure, Bear. A week was all it took to make me fall for you. You’re sexy and brilliant and kind and you take excellent care of me. I can guarantee you that this is what I want right now. No more waiting.” She gave him tender but passionate kisses, her tongue mingling with his.  
“What if everything comes back and you hate me? What if you couldn’t stand the sight of me, and I messed everything up? I would die, Iris.”  
“Barry, this is our reality. This is what my life is now. What if the Iris you knew never comes back? Can you accept me like this? This big mess?”  
“Accept you?” He echoed like she was crazy. “I will always love Iris West in whatever form. I’ll love you no matter what.”  
“Then show me. Make love to me, Barry.”  
Barry searched her eyes. They said, I’m ready. Barry didn’t hesitate another second. He surged up and kissed her full force.  
The power of his love hit her like a freight train. Iris knew she felt more for him, so much more than her two-week-old memories allowed, but the way desire and passion and infatuation coursed through her body, she knew without a doubt that Pre-Concussion Iris was in love with this man. She wanted to know why they weren’t together but there were more important matters at hand, like Barry’s growing erection.  
She reached for his waistband, Barry guiding her farther down, bringing her hand to his hardening shaft. He hissed when she wrapped her hand around it. She felt its power when she stroked up and down, and it got longer and harder every second.  
“All this for me?” Barry cursed and Iris giggled because they were just getting started and she’d already made him lose his mind.  
Barry cupped her ass, massaging the flesh under his fingers. Iris responded by grinding down harder on him, on his erection, now tall and proud and ready for her.  
From her ass Barry’s fingers slid down to her womanhood, slippery and wet, as ready for him as he was for her. Her body craved his touch, shuddering as he delicately caressed her. His tongue traveled down her neck, nipples, her sides, her belly button, and finally lower, probing all the secret places that made her moan with relish. It was obvious he enjoyed her pleasure as much as she did, which only magnified the experience. The urgency, the need to release herself to him, on him, through him, was mounting.  
“I need you, Barry, right now.”  
“You’ve got me. Always.” They way he smiled melted her. She could tell he meant every word. She was ready for him to make love to her. This was how it was supposed to be, no matter what. Barry and Iris, together.  
Barry rolled Iris onto her back. He parted her knees, which slid open willingly. She was exposed to him in every way possible, giving herself over to him completely.  
Again, their lips touched, and Iris ran her tongue around Barry’s bottom lip and sucked, urging him not to wait a moment longer. He settled his thumb on her clit, his hand on her mound, and, holding his ready dick in his hand, guided himself towards her.  
When he made his way inside her, carefully but like a man on a mission, there was almost too much of him for her to handle. Barry kissed her while she took the time to adjust, rowing her hips with barely perceptible movements, opening herself up for him, little by little. He began to move with her, shallow, slow movements to answer hers, gradually becoming smoother, longer, deeper, until he bottomed out inside her, and she began to gasp in small breaths as the first hints of pleasure flowed through her, inside, right in her center.  
“Oh. Barry,” she breathed softly. This was it. She didn’t try to gather herself, to stay coherent; it was better to let go and get lost in him, in this, the love they were making.  
Yes, it was right. Barry held her gaze, not wavering for a second, as he pumped into her. He touched her face, guiding his lips up to kiss her as his strokes increased in speed. Iris did her best to keep up, rowing her hips to ride the wave of ecstasy, adrift in the sea of their love.  
It was magic. It was music. It was light. Iris wondered why the hell she had waited so long. She tightened her grip on his forearms, hoping he understood that she was urging him on, asking him wordlessly to give her more, demanding more. Barry didn’t miss a beat, thrusting not faster, but with more force than he had a moment ago. He chased her throat with his mouth as her head rolled back and forth, out of control with the feelings he was creating within her, tonguing the spot where she produced the moans he was extracting from her. God. He was amazing.  
Barry pulled out, but before Iris had time miss him, he had her on her stomach, ass arched into the air. He settled on top of her, kissing the nape of her neck. He palmed her breasts, rolling the buds of her nipples between his long fingers. He was inside her again, back to his relentless pace.  
His hand was dove down, playing with her clit while keeping her hips arched up. She needed help, they way he was pounding her.  
Just the right combination of angle and pressure on her sensitive bead and she knew she was close to the edge, so close.  
“Don’t stop, Barry. I love you.”  
Although yelling it out wasn’t the plan, as soon as the words passed her lips she knew they were the truest words she’d ever spoken. A surge of emotion rocked her. When she turned to look at him, his eyes were shining. She reached back to caress his handsome face, to put her hands in his hair, to trace the angle of his jaw.  
Barry hadn’t let up. He was still sliding in and out of her, wringing moans out of her down to the final seconds. If anything, he was going harder now, lost in her body and her confession of love. A kiss to the corner of her mouth and a whisper against it. “I love you more, Iris.”  
“Barry. I’m- I’m gonna-“ the words had barely left her lips before she erupted.  
Oh, God. She tried to say it but the words won’t come out, only the uncontrollable arch of her back and tightening of her muscles as the lightning lanced through her, shocking every part of her body.  
From some distance place she heard Barry whisper-moan, “Iris,” before he came shuddering inside her.  
She wasn't sure what did it. Maybe his unique scent; a mix of cologne, chemicals from his lab, simple bar soap and just plain Barry, the feel of his rich russet hair under the pads of her fingers, his familiar voice broken and jagged in her ear…  
Barry.  
Iris eyes shot open. “Barry?!”  
Forget lying in afterglow. Iris shot straight up in bed and stared at him, horrified.  
“What is it?” He was already panicking.  
“I remember.”  
“Oh shit.” Barry was out of bed before she could blink, trying to cover himself up even though his dick still glistened her juices. “How do you remember all of a sudden? Why now?”  
“It was you, it was…”  
“Me? Because we-?”  
“Yes, you jogged my memory with your penis, Barry!” Iris jumped out of the bed with the sheet wrapped around her. At least, she tried to jump. Her legs were wobbly from post-orgasm bliss, so she flopped and rolled, almost falling out of bed but Barry stopped her from face planting. It was jarring, having his hand on her now, and she yanked away from him.  
She didn’t mean to be so harsh, but she couldn’t help how his touch made her jerk, made her tear herself away from him. His heartbroken face tortured her, but she couldn’t help the panic that welled up. She’d just had sex with her best friend since childhood. The more she thought about how she’d been acting the past two weeks, the more horrified she became.  
“Barry, I…I have to go.”  
“But where will you go? This is your apartment.” He spread his hands helplessly, tripping over his jeans because he’d been trying to pull them up.  
“I don’t know, but I have to-“  
“Iris, you’re still not well. You don’t even have any clothes on.”  
“It’s okay, I’ll, uh, I’ll figure it out. I have to get out of here.” She snatched the first articles of clothing she saw on the floor, stuffed them in her purse, and bolted.  
“Iris, please wait!” It was all she heard before she slammed the door behind her. She wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous; running away from her own apartment in only a thin sheet, or walking up to the check-in counter at the hotel at the edge of Central city in Barry’s t-shirt, braless, with sex hair and workout pants on backwards. The word “pink” splayed across her entire crotch, but no one could see it because Barry’s shirt hung down to her knees.  
In her pocket, her phone was dancing like a cat on a hot tin roof. Barry hadn’t stopped calling and texting her. He begged her to come home (what did that even mean anymore?), even if she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't have to, he just wanted her safe. Soon her dad and Wally joined in. Then other loved ones. Knowing her dad, he'd have half the force out looking for her soon. Dammit, why couldn’t they just let her suffer in peace?  
She got up to her room and collapsed facedown on the bed. She curled in on herself, wanting the world to stop spinning for one minute, just one minute.  
She could run but she couldn’t hide. She tried to bury her tears on her shoulder, but the fabric of Barry’s worn old police academy tee smelled like him. His scent was reassuring, familiar, and erotic all at once. Iris buried her nose in it either way, taking a good whiff.  
The fabric rubbed against her bare breasts, triggering a frisson at the thought of the best orgasm of her life. At the thought of the best person in her life.  
The feeling was so dangerous. It was such foreign territory. If there was one thing in her life that had always been constant, ever-present and certain, it was Barry at her side, as her best friend. There had always been love for him, but being in love with him? Could she cross that line?  
It broke Iris down to her knees.  
He told her he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want her to hate him. He’d admitted to loving her. To being in love with her, for years. And what did Iris do? Run from him butt-naked in a sheet.  
“How could I treat him like that?” She moaned.  
She couldn't take back what she’d done. Even though she couldn't have known any better, it still was the single most embarrassing moment of her life. She wondered if Barry had told everyone even a pinch of what happened to make her take off. What a story to tell. Where would she go from here? They couldn't go back to the way they were before. She made such a fool of herself, spending all that time thinking they were a couple madly in love, gone astray somewhere, trying to find their way back into each others arms. At the time, though, she felt how true it was. It was real.  
So, could she cross that line? If she was honest with herself, yes. Yes, it had been there, probably since she was a teenager, so she’d never even known how the different kinds of love were commingling. Until Amnesia Iris wasn’t hindered by the years of history; all she had was raw feelings to go on. Amnesia Iris only knew pure, unadultered, passionate love for Barry Allen.  
Overwhelmed, she cried her eyes out on the edge of the tub. It just seemed like an appropriate place for a meltdown.  
Pounding at the door.  
“Iris! Open the door. Please.” She froze, hoping if she was still enough he would go away. “I’m not going away.”So much for that plan. “Just talk to me. Please, talk to me.” There was a thunks he dropped his forehead against the door, probably as miserable as she was.  
Iris must have walked to the door and then away three times. On the third, with a shaking hand, she twisted the knob and opened the door just a crack, peeking out with one eye.  
“What are you doing here, Barry?”  
“I work for the CCPD and run really fast. Did you think I wasn’t going to find you? Please just let me in so I can try to make this right and make you see…” He trailed off and looked skyward, as if begging someone to help him. She opened the door wide and motioned for him to come in.  
They sat on the bed in silence, neither having the courage to look at the other. Iris took a deep breath and launched.  
“I shouldn’t have run away. I was just so shocked when my memory came back.”  
“You and me both.” Barry reached tentatively for her hand. Iris was afraid, but she let him take it. He kissed it and held it to his face, a pained but relived expression there.  
I love you, Iris’ heart said, even though her mouth didn’t. Don’t be sad. I love you so much.  
“I think we should take a second to be grateful that it came back. Even if it was under less-than-ideal circumstances.”  
“Yes. I’m back! She cracked a small smile. She could get back to being Joe’s daughter and Wally’s sister, and a kickass reporter. Things were different Barry now, though.  
“When I decided I wanted us to…” she still couldn't say “make love” to Barry out loud. “I thought we were living in our new reality. I didn’t think I would regain my memory and turn this into such a huge mess. I didn’t mean for you to have to go through this.”  
Barry took a deep breath this time. His voice came out quiet, but it didn’t waver.  
"I am in love with you, Iris. I always wanted this to happen between us, and it was a dream come true, but I never would have let it happen if I thought it wasn't what you wanted.“  
“It was what I wanted, Barry. We were both doing the best we could at the time. The circumstances were what they were, but I know what I was feeling. It's not your fault. I don't want you to ever feel bad about giving in to your feelings when I told you that's what I wanted, too.“  
"But you don't want this when you're you, and that's the problem,” Barry’s eyes went glassy. "I thought I might never have you back as I've always known you, but I would never stop loving you, whether you remembered me or not. I would always want what we had, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. When you said you might never remember and you wanted me, I believed that you were right about your memories. I had never wanted anything more then to be with you. I let things go too far. Now I've messed things up.” He buried his face in his free hand, breathing hitched as he choked out, “I wish I could take it all back and go back to the way we were before. “  
"Barry, do you regret being with me?“  
"I would never regret being with you, not ever. I regret that it's ruined our friendship. Where can we go if you don't trust me, and don’t want to be with me?”  
"Barry, you did not violate my trust. I absolutely without a doubt wanted only nothing else but you. We were in it together, one hundred percent.” She took a deep breath and listened to what her had had been telling her all along.  
“If I'm being honest with myself, it's what I want now. I want us to be in it together, one hundred percent.” Barry looked up from his hand.  
“Iris, what are you saying?”  
“I’m saying that from the moment I woke up, I felt nothing but love for you. I used the way I felt, and my observations about the way we’ve always been, to draw the conclusion that you’re the man I love. It only took me two weeks to decide that just from those things, I could start all over with you and fall head over heels. It’s because I already did, Barry. A long time ago. I might have forgotten a whole lifetime of memories, but the feelings never went away. I remembered. The truth is, my love for you brought me back. You brought me back.” She faced him, figuring he deserved that much. She put a hand over his heart. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.  
“This thing between us. It's too strong to ignore. It's too strong to throw it away. Us together… It would be the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I’m afraid, but I want to try.”  
“You do. You want to try.”  
“Yes. Let’s try, Barry.”  
Barry answered by kissing her breathless. 

”You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that.” Kisses quickly deepened to caresses and flickers of tongues and exploring fingertips. It came so naturally to Iris that it surprised her, and she wanted more, so much more. She urged Barry to undress.  
“Am I dreaming?? He murmured.  
“We’re both wide awake,” she whispered back.  
“I love you, Iris.”  
“I love you, Barry, and I want a replay of what you did to make my entire memory come back. If you can cure amnesia, what else can you do?"  
Barry smirked. “Let’s find out.”  
They put the hotel bed to good use.

Three Months Later

“Barry, where are we going?”  
“You’ll see.” Finally he pulled to a stop and let Iris open her eyes.  
“I haven’t been here in years!” Mercy park, where they met as kids on that fateful day in the third grade.  
Of course, it had changed in fifteen years. The wood chips have been replaced by sand. The seesaw was brand new, standing out against the rest of the playground with its bright colors. The mini merry-go-round was gone. Maybe it was for the best; Barry had thrown up on it at least four times.  
A mischievous look came over Iris’ face, and Barry knew exactly what was on her mind. She ran and he chased her, up child-sized stairs and down the winding slide and in circles around the seesaw, sand building up in their shoes until he caught her from behind, mid-giggle, and kissed her hard.  
He pushed her on the swing and they enjoyed the quiet and stillness of the day. It was seventy-five degrees, mostly sunny but peppered with cotton-candy clouds.  
A slight breeze rustled through Iris’ hair. She thought about all of the events in her life, and how they’d all led up to this perfect little moment with her best friend and love of her life.  
“Look what the kids did to our tree.” Barry pointed.  
There was a tall oak, the tallest in the park by far, that they used to play under. There were lots of others growing around it now, but it could still be seen towering effortless over the others. The oak tree was covered in…something. Paper? Iris dragged her feet in the sand, coming to a stop. She stood, shading her eyes with her flattened hand, resting the other on her hip.  
“What is all that?” Her brow furrowed with concern. “I hope no one harmed that beautiful old tree.”  
“I have no idea what it is,” barry said with an exaggerated shrug, and a slight smile.  
“What are you up to, Barry Allen?” Iris asked with a slight smile of her own. She could hear soft chiming coming from the tree, and it piqued her curiosity.  
“I think you should go take a look.”  
Iris wound through the small copse of newer tress and bramble, dodging branches and tall grass until she reached the clearing where the tree stood. The sight stole her breath.  
Shimmering silk ribbons in soft, bright colors streamed from the branches, all of them tied with pictures, placards, and wind chimes. When the breeze blew they billowed beautifully in the wind, emitting beautiful colors and sounds.  
“Oh…” Iris ran to stand underneath, watching with eyes filled with wonder as the spectacle glittered and tinkled in the wind.  
Barry followed, hands in his pockets, looking pleased with himself.  
“Hey, this looks kind of familiar.” He gently pulled one towards her. Iris held it in her hands. It was the two of them, ten years old, playing at that very park.  
The tip of her fingers glided over it, nearly touching but not quite. “It’s us.”  
“I like to test and make sure you’re memory’s still there,” he joked. Iris shoved him playfully and pulled down the next pieces; Christmas cards from the sixth grade. School newspaper clippings. Yearbook photos from their Sadie Hawkins dance. Prom, birthday and graduation pictures. Her news articles, his lab reports. Her dad, Wally, Linda. Cisco, Caitlin, Captain Singh. His own parents.  
“They’re our memories.”  
The most recent one was from their last date as an actual official couple. Barry had insisted on taking her to the most expensive place in town, even though he couldn’t afford it. The older couple at the table next to them thought they were sweet, and were kind enough to take their picture. Looking at it now, with Barry in his crisp black suit and her in a long pink chiffon dress, Iris felt like they could have convinced people they had some sort of class.  
She leaned back against the tree and looked towards the sky, cradling the picture to her chest, feeling like she was floating in the cotton-candy clouds up there. Barry set his hands on her hips, leaning in close to her to kiss her. She kissed him back, fiercely, passionately.  
"I need to ask to you about something important.”  
"What is it, Bear?”  
“I brought you here today because since I was ten years old, you’ve been my star. You're gorgeous, smart, hard-working, and you take such good care of me. You love me with all your heart, even when I don't deserve it.” He swallowed, took a deep breath. “I know this is soon, but I feel like I’ve wasted so much time already. I don’t want to waste another second. I need you to know you’re the only one in my eyes. You’ve been the only one since you built that sandcastle with me right here in this park. You’re the only one there ever will be.” He went in his pocket, fumbling a little, pulling out a black velveteen box, a perfect cube that fit in the palm of his shaking hand.  
Speechless, Iris clapped her hands over her mouth as Barry went from towering over her to looking up at her from one knee.  
“Iris Ann West, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you-“ He hadn’t even gotten the words out before she jumped into his arms, screaming.  
“Yes! I will!”  
“You will?!” Iris started crying and urged Barry to put the ring on her finger.  
“I’ll marry you, Barry, of course I will!”  
He picked her up and spun her around, until they were both laughing and out of breath and laying dizzy on the grass.  
The wind blew through the oak’s branches, making their most precious memories dance and sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild dub con. Iris consents to sex with Barry, but her memory hasn't returned. 
> 
> I love your faces! ❤❤❤


End file.
